Originally Posted by cheezemziez
(Post 338994)
the.last.time.i.posted.on.here.for.advice.was.an.e xperiment..that's.why.you're.reading.this.like.thi s.i'm.almost.completely.certain.
Rant time:that.i.have.depression.i.don't.cut.but.i.do.scratc h.my.arms.and.the.inside.of.my.knees.alot..the.red ness.goes.away after.about.twenty. minutes.and.comes.on.the.arms.back.when.i.scratch. it.again.or.the.other.side.i.can.even.do.it.in.pub lic.without.anyone noticing..my.leg.has.been.bleeding.constantly.for. about.three.years.and.i.tell.people.that.it's.ecze ma.which.it.used.to.be..i'm.doing.this.for.you
I am so angry right now. Me and my brother were talking whilst he was playing piano, and he said: 'I'm sight-reading a piece that you couldn't even play if you worked on it.' So we started talking about how he's so much better than me at piano, and what the hell happened at my exam. We go to have dinner, and my dad's asleep on the couch.so.you.can.pretend you.didn't.see.it.but.if.you.quote.this.i'll.know. you.did.
My mum joins in the conversation, and she says that even though my brother is better than me at some things, I can't compare the thing that he's not as good at to the best people a that thing. This was about when I told him that I had seen four year old write better stuff than his essay, then proceeded to help him with it. I told her that my brother is the best at piano and maths, and he compares himself to me, so I should be allowed to compare him to the best, too. After a while, my brother leaves, and my mum is telling me that some people are better than things, and other people are better at others. She says that I am better at English and Art. (I completely suck at Art, but she's never seen any of my work, and the last time she did it was okay, plus I'm a girl)I say that I may be better than my brother at these things, but I'm not the best, while he is. My dad wakes up, and since he gets really angry for no reason when I say certain things, which I now know never to say in front of him, I don't say that while Maths, and piano in our 'community', is useful, writing and Art are not, because my dad would yell. My dad asks what I'm typing, and I tell him that I'm not writing. He asks about my NaNo, which my brother just had to tell him about, and I tell him that I gave up half way through because I couldn't write when I was in Ipswich. The two of them proceed to give me a lecture about how I should have predicted that, and set a lower target. (they told me that I wasn't going to go anywhere all month) They end the lecture by telling my, and I quote: 'You're never going to get bloody anywhere in life.' Cheery, yes? He then tells me to go and play the piano, which he always tells me to do even when I quit. (Mum simply refused to accept it, and whahey, I'm going back to lessons now.) if.you.think.i'm.being .melodramatic.and hormonal.then.go.ahead.and.pretend..i.won't.hate.y ou.for.it..when.i.was.playing.piano.i.scratched.my .arms
At this point I am very nearly crying, which I haven't done for any reason other than my dad for three years , but I go to play piano. It's luckily in the other room. I am really upset and angry at this point, but I have to pretend that I'm perfectly happy because he yells at me when I cry. So I choose the happiest piece I can find, and start to play it. I am aware that I can never play this piece again without being reminded of this incident, which is the same for my NaNo novel, which I now can't continue.
if.you're.reading.this.please.give.me.advice.if.yo u.don't.want.to.pretend
I don't expect any of you to give me advice, this is literally just a rant.
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